


last words, last words, last— wrong

by starryeyedchar



Series: The Meaning of Hyacinths (Roy Mustang Can't Catch A Break AU) [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Roy Mustang, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Maes Hughes Lives, Major Character Injury, Parental Roy Mustang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 10:55:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20692364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryeyedchar/pseuds/starryeyedchar
Summary: The fury Ed had felt only moments before left him, and an all too familiar feeling took its place. Loss. A heavy sorrow he hadn’t felt since losing their mother hit him all at once. He couldn’t deny what Ross had said anymore, not when Hughes was staring at him like that. The man’s usually bright green eyes looked almost empty.“It’s true, isn’t it?” Ed asked, and to his surprise, his voice came out steady. “Mustang’s dead.”Hughes drew in a long breath, and turned his blank stare to the floor. “Yes.”Or the one where Edward finally finds out what happened to Roy. And he doesn't take it very well.





	last words, last words, last— wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Almost two months since the last work? Unacceptable! I'm so sorry for the wait! But in my defense a LOT of changes have been going on in my life. I've gotten settled at college, I absolutely adore it here, and I have a lot of free time, some of which will be used for writing. I told you guys I was in this for the long haul, and this AU is far from over. I plan to do literally the ENTIRE PLOT OF THE SERIES with my altered storyline, so I hope you're looking forward to that. You better stay tuned, because I have a lot of plans. It's all very ambitious.
> 
> I'm glad to finally get this part out, though, because a lot of you were wondering what would happen when the Elrics found out. Rest assured, they're a big part of this AU (duh, because it follows the plot of the show, or at least the parts of it relevant to the changes I've made). Whatever, you'll see. I'm not about to spoil my own series. (Or am I?)
> 
> Without further rambling, the next part! I hope you enjoy, and please tell me your thoughts in the comments below. I live for your outrage.

Maes Hughes surveyed the suit of armor before him, put off by the similarities to Alphonse. He didn’t want to make connections between the boy and a murderer in his head, but it was simply impossible not to do so. Maes had never met Al before he’d lost his body, and though he’d heard of Barry the Chopper before, all he’d seen of the man was yet another empty suit of armor.

Maes found himself wondering how many others were out there like them, besides the brothers Edward had fought in the Fifth Laboratory.

It felt unsettling to tie Barry up when Maes found himself reminded of the Elrics, but he’d have been an idiot not to take such a precaution. He had nearly attacked Lieutenant Hawkeye, after all. And Barry had proved to be a brilliant source of information.

“Well, we have our confirmation,” he said, turning to Hawkeye where she stood beside him, her arms crossed tightly. “The Fifth Laboratory was being used to make philosopher’s stones.”

Second Lieutenant Falman shook his head from Maes’ other side. “I can hardly believe it. It’s a military building.”

Hawkeye glanced at him. “That’s information we were already pretty certain of, thanks to the Elrics, though I suppose I should be glad you, Havoc, and Fuery have a more direct source to find out exactly what you’re getting yourselves into. It’s possible members of the senior staff are involved.”

Falman straightened. “No matter how far fetched or dangerous it sounds, if it has to do with what happened to the Colonel, we’re _all _following this lead.”

Maes’ fingers tensed where he held his notepad, the knuckles going white. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said, then fixed his attention back on Barry. “Is there anything else of importance you can tell us? You identified the two suspects Edward encountered in the lab as Lust and Envy. Are they the ones that turned you into that?”

“Nah, that was the researchers,” Barry told them. “Ripped my soul right out of my body.”

“If we look into the researchers who worked there, we may be able to find out who ordered the experiments,” Falman said. But Barry shook his head before Maes could agree.

“No chance,” he said, voice cold. “Those guys were all used to make philosopher’s stones. There’s not a single one of them left.”

Maes resisted the urge to sigh. Of course, it would never be that easy. “It makes sense,” he admitted, reluctantly. “Once the process had been perfected, whoever was in charge could get rid of the majority of the witnesses and continue their experiments. Killing two birds with one stone. Or… _for _one stone, I guess I should say.”

“It seems like they killed quite a bit more than that,” Hawkeye muttered. “Does this mean they won’t be making any _more _stones?”

Barry only shrugged at that, and Maes frowned.

“Whether they need more power or not, it’s clear their plans are far from complete,” he said. “We need to figure out their next move. I’m fairly certain that’s what Roy accomplished, before...”

He trailed off, narrowing his eyes at the murderer in front of him. Maes felt a wave of angerwash over him, the darkness that he now held deep within himself rising just slightly closer to the surface, threatening to spill over. Barry was an accomplished killer who these people clearly had do a fair amount of their dirty work. Was it possible _he’d…_?

“One more thing,” Maes said, a fake smile coming to his face easily. “You haven’t done anything for these people since you left the Fifth Laboratory, correct? So, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about the deathof a military officer who was killed inside a phone booth, just over a month ago?”

A heavy silence descended on the room after these words, and Maes could feel both Falman and Hawkeye staring intensely at Barry, who just tilted his head to the side in confusion.

“Phone booth?” he echoed. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Was he all chopped up?”

“No.” Maes’ voice was going cold again, the way it always did when he thought about Roy’s killer. It scared him, but he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to, either. “No. You might’ve seen the reports. A shot to the heart, killing him instantly.”

_Blood, seeping across the ground. A body under a red-soaked sheet, quickly wheeled away from him. Sirens flashing, voices trying to speak to him but all of it drowned out by his ears ringing, ringing, ringing, like the phone he hadn’t even bothered to answer. A coffin buried six feet underground, a wreath of white hyacinths, and __his daughter yelling _‘I don’t want him to go to a better place! I want him to stay with me!’

Maes took a deep breath. Let it out. “But if you don’t know anything about it, then… well. Never mind. We’re done here.”

* * *

For the first time in what felt like forever, Edward wasn’t dreading returning to Central headquarters. In fact, he was almost looking forward to it as their train pulled into the station.

Almost. Because as much as he wanted information, and as much as the last conversation he’d had with the Colonel had been lingering unresolved in the back of his mind, he still _hated _making reports, and everything that had happened in Dublith would no doubt take a lot of paperwork to cover. Which meant Mustang would no doubt subject them to a series of questions he already knew the answers to from the countless _other _people who’d been there before they could even get to the important stuff.

“I suppose we should drop by the military headquarters first,” he said reluctantly, as the three of them walked down the street, ignoring Fu and Lan Fan as they called out for Ling. He was no doubt conning some other poor unsuspecting alchemist out of his hard earned cash. “Might as well get updating the Colonel over with.”

“Well, I’ll pass on that,” Winry said. “I don’t think I’m technically allowed in Central, and I’d rather go right to Mr. Hughes’ house. I want to say hi to Miss Gracia and Elicia as soon as possible!”

“Gotcha, we’ll meet you there,” Edward told her, and waved as she ran off in another direction. “Man, this is why we should’ve had _Hughes _look into things for us. We could’ve just dropped by his office and then went on our way to meet up with Winry, avoiding Mustang entirely. But because it’s the Colonel, he’ll force us to do a bunch of other things.”

“The Colonel is doing us a huge favor,” Al reminded him. “And _you _still have to apologize to him. I wonder if he found anything out while we were away, though.”

“Probably not,” Edward said, with a sigh. “Knowing him, he’s been slacking off and won’t have anything to show for it. But we should tell him what we found out first.”

Al turned to him. “The Homunculus.”

“Yeah,” Ed nodded, and began heading in the direction of Hughes’ office. He had no idea where Colonel Mustang would be working now that he’d been transferred to Central, but his best friend was a pretty good place to start. “Come on, let’s go.”

They passed a phone booth on their way there, and thought nothing of it.

* * *

Out of all the disguises Envy had worn in their life, military officers were by _far _the most fun to impersonate. Getting the information they required was so _easy _as long as they wore that hideous blue uniform, too easy even. But it was worth it, because all they had to do was appear like a military official, and they automatically earned everyone’s trust. And of course, betraying that trust was the best feeling in the world.

An Ishvalan child, face bright and curious, only to switch to an expression of confusion when Envy pulled out their gun and shot her between the eyes. She hadn’t even had the time to be afraid.

One of Envy’s latest escapades as a military officer had quickly become their favorite, however, surpassing even _that _glorious moment. They’d often wondered what it would feel like to kill someone while looking like one of their loved ones and… well, now they knew.

The blonde woman—Envy believed her name to be Hawkeye —had been a guess, but an educated one. For all that the Colonel hid his feelings, anyone with eyes could plainly see how head over heels he was for her. She stood by his side at almost every second, ironically enough. If she’d stayed with her superior officer in Central, maybe he would’ve stood a chance.

As it was, Envy relished the look of surprise they’d earned on Roy Mustang’s face every day. The dark, wide eyes. The already pale face drained of all color. The gritted teeth, the shaking hand that wore a blood soaked glove, poised to snap in what would’ve been a useless attack anyway. But when staring at his Lieutenant, the great Flame Alchemist hadn’t even been able to bring himself to _try. _And the expression he’d made when Envy shot him in the stomach… the pain, the shock, the sorrow, and above all, the _acceptance_.

Roy Mustang was a name Envy had heard frequently; a legend in Ishval, a legend now. Alchemy unique to him and more powerful and deadly than any kind seen before. Someone Envy had known they’d have to watchout for.

But taking him had been so, so _easy_. Envy found themself feeling just a tad disappointed.

The Flame Alchemist, contrary to his name, was supposed to be cold, unforgiving. He showed no mercy, and he didn’t care about anyone but himself. How else would he have been able to kill so many innocents in Ishval?

Envy had believed, for just a split second, that the rumors were true. That Roy Mustang was honest in his desire to join them, to help them. As much as they despised the man, Envy knew his powers would’ve been an incredible asset.

And then, just as all humans did, Mustang had let Envy down. _Sentiment_. A weakness all humans shared, apparently even the heartless hero of Ishval himself. That’s why humans were lesser beings, unworthy of life, and why Envy had won. The poor fools just couldn’t seem to stop themselves from loving each other.

_Case in point_, Envy thought, as they watched one Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes emerge from the storeroom and walk down the hall. His stubble was more scraggly than usual, his glasses didn’t help to conceal the bags under his eyes, and it seemed that the man had even lost a little weight. Envy couldn’t resist a smirk.

Envy had considered transforming into him, when he’d been choosing which of Roy Mustang’s most trusted colleagues should shoot him. Hell, he’d even considered the Fullmetal brat. Envy had been certain they’d made the right decision, but now that they were seeing how horribly the news of Mustang’s death had affected Hughes, they wondered what would’ve been different if the Colonel had turned around only to find his best friend, the very person he’d tried to call, waiting for him with a bullet and a smile. Envy wanted to use every person the Flame Alchemist had ever let himself care for to hurt him,again, and again, and again. If they could relive those fantastic few moments inside that phone booth every day for the rest of their life, they would’ve chosen to in a perfect heartbeat.

Not just that, they wanted to run up to Hughes now and taunt him with what they knew, with the fact that they’d been the one to remove Roy Mustang from the world. They wanted to transform into Mustang himself, just to see how the other man would react. Perhaps a blood covered Mustang, begging Hughes to help him.

Envy wanted to use this new trick they’d discovered a thousand more times, exploiting this love for others, their new favorite of the many flaws human beings possessed.

But there would be plenty of time for all of that later.

For now, they had a job to do.

They waited for Hughes to continue down the hall a ways before approaching the mousy woman with the glasses. “Was that Lieutenant Colonel Hughes just now?”

Sheska shrieked, only to turn and see Envy, which relaxed her instantly. They found themself repressing a scoff. Humans trusted _so _easily. With the right uniform, Envy could do whatever they wanted. “Oh, good morning, Captain Focker!”

“Good morning, Sheska,” Envy replied easily, making sure to keep their tone neutral. “Do you know what the Lieutenant Colonel was doing here, by any chance? I seem to have just missed him.”

Sheska glanced uncertainly at the room behind her. “Ah… well, you see—”

“The storeroom door is open,” Envy observed, making sure to add just a hint of disapproval to their surprised voice. Impersonating someone high up was always ideal; Envy relished the small hint of fear in Sheska’s eyes as the thought of losing yet another job crossed her mind.

And just like that, she bowed, ever so eager to please. “I… I’m sorry!” she stammered. “The truth is, I—”

“I bet Hughes twisted your arm, huh?” Envy interrupted, faking a small smile. They already knew that Sheska let Maes Hughes into the storeroom nearly ever day, that the man spent more time there on his breaks than his own house. That wasn’t important. What _was _important was that she told them why. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you very much!” she exclaimed, hands clasped together and eyes bright, as if Envy had somehow done her a great service by not mentioning something that wasn’t even strictly against the rules. They put a hand to their chin, as if deep in thought.

“I do wonder what he was looking into, though. As head of investigations, he could simply request that the information be brought to him for whatever case he’s working on. It seems like an unnecessary hassle for him to search himself,” Envy mused. “Do you know?”

“Not any of the details, I’m afraid,” Sheska told them, a slight frown appearing on her face. “But he did ask me if there were any materials about the Fifth Laboratory. Also, he asked about the General Mustang case?”

Envy’s eyes widened. That Hughes bastard was smarter than they’d thought. They’d have to find some way to get him to stop sticking his nose in things, or it would get very ugly for him, very quickly. He wasn’t supposed to be involved in the Mustang case; he was too close to the issue. Any of the officers actually dealing with it were, of course, working under the guidance of Father, whether they knew it or not, which ensured that no one with any objections to the matter would find out what they’d done. But getting rid of Hughes would be easy, if the need arose. He really wasn’t any use to Father, after all. Though Envy supposed he could be blackmailed into silence easily enough.

“I never knew him very well, General Mustang,” Sheska continued, staring at the ground. Envy resisted the urge to roll their eyes. “But I got my job here because of Lieutenant Colonel Hughes. It’s… hard to see him this upset.”

“I see,” Envy nodded, and entertained for a brief moment the idea of comforting her. Would it even be believable? Perhaps it would be considered the kind thing to do, but Sheska wouldn’t make it very far in the Amestris military if she expected her bosses to be kind to her.

Regardless, Envy decided it wasn’t worth it. They had the information they needed, and the thought of giving into something as disgustingly human as _emotion _made them feel physically ill. Instead, they just took a few steps forward and patted Sheska on the shoulder.

“There’s a lot of work for you to do, today. Carry on,” Envy said, then continued on their way. They had a lot of work to do, as well.

* * *

Edward and Alphonse didn’t end up having to go looking in Lieutenant Colonel Hughes’ office, because not even halfway there they stumbled into a much better lead.

“Huh? Lieutenant Hawkeye...” Ed muttered, trailing off as he noticed the woman leaning against a nearby wall. He and Al headed over, and she turned to look at them.

“Oh, hello, you two,” she said softly, with a small smile. She brushed a hand across her face discreetly, but the action didn’t escape Ed’s notice. “Long time no see.”

With a start, he realized that her eyes were red-rimmed. Had she been crying? No doubt the Colonel had done something stupid or offensive. Or both.

He opened his mouth to ask if she was all right, only to stop when another person came around the corner.

Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, who nodded at Hawkeye. “Thanks for waiting,” he told her, then jumped when his eyes landed on the Elric brothers. “Oh, Edward and Alphonse! It’s really good to see you.” Though his voice sounded genuine, Edward could hear a hint of uneasiness in it.

He shook his head to clear it. He was imagining things. “Well, if both of you are here, that means the Colonel can’t be too far off,” he said, smirking at them. “Where is the insufferable bastard, anyway? Al and I need to talk to him.”

Okay, Ed definitely did _not _imagine Hughes’ wince, or the way Hawkeye’s eyes widened

. They stared at each other for a moment, before Hughes turned back to Edward. “He’s not here.”

“Wait, what?” Edward shook his head. “He told us he’d be in Central, though. I thought he was getting transferred here?”

Hawkeye opened her mouth, but Hughes spoke before she could. “He’s back in East City,” he said. “Roy hasn’t been able to officially get back to work, yet. His… his leg is taking longer to heal than expected.”

Edward tried to shove down the immediate disappointment and concern he felt. That at least explained why Hawkeye and Hughes seemed upset, but... still. “That’s too bad,” Edward mumbled. “I… I guess if he found anything useful he can always tell us later.”

Al sighed. “Still, we’d hoped to be able to talk to him.”

“Silver lining, though,” Ed elbowed his brother in the side. “Looks like we won’t have to do a report for him any time soon, huh?”

Hughes smiled at them, but there was something strained in it, less genuine than the ones Edward was so used to the man giving them. “No, I suppose you won’t.”

“Tell that idiot to give us a call next time you see him, Lieutenant,” Edward said, with a salute and a grin. “You too, Lieutenant Colonel. He said he’d help us and I intend to hold him to it.”

With another one of those odd tight smiles and a nod, Hughes turned away and began walking back down the hall. After just a few paces, however, he stopped. Looking back at them, he said, “You boys be careful, all right? I mean it.”

“Brother’s never careful,” Alphonse teased, which only led to Edward elbowing him again.

Ed gave Hughes and Hawkeye what he hoped was a believable smile. “I’ll try to be just this once, since you asked so nicely.”

Neither of them responded. Hughes just continued on his way, and Hawkeye stood still for a moment before rushing to follow him.

Alphonse hummed. “What do you think that was about?”

“Well, you heard Mr. Hughes. Apparently Mustang’s leg is still all messed up,” Ed said, then shrugged. “If it was anything to worry about they would’ve told us. So, I guess they just miss him. I can’t imagine why.”

“Oh, please. I know you miss him too, brother.” Edward got the distinct impression that if Al had eyes, he would’ve just rolled them.

As it was, Ed just rolled his own. “Yeah, right. I’ll miss Colonel Mustang when hell freezes over.” He hefted his suitcase back up onto his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get Winry. As long as Mustang’s not here, we don’t really have any reason to be. We can wish Elicia a belated happy birthday, possibly eat some of Mrs. Hughes’ pie, then… well, I guess then we figure out if there’s any work we need to do here, and if not we either head back to Resembool with Winry for another visit or just go to East City. What do you think?”

“I think just leaving right away is a bit rude, brother,” Al scolded. “Perhaps we should go say hello to Major Armstrong. Colonel Mustang isn’t the only person we wanted to see.”

_Speak for yourself_, Ed thought. He doubted he’d be able to focus on much else besides wondering if the Colonel had found anything that could help them. He was only interested in the information, of course; he wasn’t worried at all. How long did broken legs take to heal, anyways? _Ed _only had one intact leg, but he hadn’t let that stop him. Mustang was probably just slacking, like Ed had thought. _But what if he’s really hurt? What if it’s serious? Maybe we should call and check on_—

“Oh, Second Lieutenant Ross!”

Thank goodness. Edward’s traitorous train of thought had been derailed by his brother drawing his attention to Maria Ross, who had come down the hall in their direction.

She clasped her hands together and smiled at them. “Hello, boys! Haven’t seen you two around here in a while. What seems to be troubling you?”

Edward refused to acknowledge that her question implied his expression betrayed the fact that something was bothering him, mainly because this situation was not bothering him at _all_.

...Even if something still felt off.

“We heard about Colonel Mustang,” he told her.

Her face immediately fell. “Oh. Yes, of course. It’s horrible, isn’t it?”

_What the hell? _Edward forced himself to remain calm. If Second Lieutenant Ross had heard… did that mean it truly was serious? He nodded anyway, though. Of course it was horrible that Mustang was still hurt… Edward hated seeing him with that cast. It reminded him of that day, when they’d just barely stopped Scar.

If they had been just a moment later…

Ed didn’t like to think about it. The memory of the Colonel on the ground, covered in his own blood, just sitting there and _waiting _for Scar to end his life was one Ed didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget. It went against everything he’d thought he’d known about Mustang.

And it always stirred up emotions he didn’t want to have, let alone identify. Because of course he couldn’t care less what happened to Colonel Mustang. He didn’t care at all.

Edward sighed. He couldn’t even convince himself of that, anymore. What did it matter if he couldn’t fool Maria Ross either?

So, he swallowed his pride, and let the concern seep in. “We… really were hoping to be able to speak with him. It’s been a while, and we… well, _Al _misses him. I guess I’m just used to always having the Colonel around.” It was a start, at least. 

Ross’ eyes softened. “Major General now, actually,” she corrected. “Promoted two ranks.”

Alphonse gasped. “That’s amazing! I knew he’d been transferred to work in Central, but I didn’t know they’d actually moved him up that much!”

Something nagged at the back of Ed’s mind at that. _Promoted two ranks… why did that sound __familiar__? _He could’ve sworn he’d heard that somewhere before. You got promoted two ranks if… something or other. And hadn’t Roy not started working here yet? That _is _what Lieutenant Colonel Hughes had told them. Why would he have gotten his official ranking already if he was still unable to come to work at all?

“Well, it is the custom,” Ross replied, still looking thoroughly sad.

“Custom?” Ed echoed, the gears in his brain turning. He didn’t like any of the conclusions his mind was drawing up.

Ross nodded. “I don’t blame you for not knowing. It’s not generally talked about, but they did explain at the funeral. We tried to reach you, of course, but—”

“_Funeral_?” Al practically shrieked.

Ed felt every cell in his body go cold. Numbingly, startlingly cold, as if he’d just been plunged in icy water. He _drowned _in the confusion, the disbelief, the _fear_.

Because there was just _no way_...

Hawkeye had been crying. Edward had never seen her cry before, not once in his entire life.

Maria Ross had covered her mouth with her hands.

“Second Lieutenant Ross?” he whispered, his voice sounding far away to his own ears.

“You didn’t know?” she said back, just as quiet. Edward couldn’t find the strength to do more than shake his head. “He… Col— General Mustang was murdered, about a month ago. I… I’m so sorry, I thought you meant that someone had already told you.”

“Murdered?” Al asked, his voice so, so small.

Edward couldn’t form words, couldn’t form thoughts. _No way, no way, no way, noway._

He remembered yet another aspect of that terrible day Mustang had fought Scar. Words he’d said before they’d even known what had happened.

“_You don’t have to worry about the Colonel, he’s too stubborn to die.”_

Words that had been thrown back in his face when he’d seen Roy Mustang on the ground, ready to do just that at Scar’s hands. Words that came back to haunt him now.

And _so _many other words joined them. All the insults, all the jabs and snide remarks.

_“Brother, would it kill you to be nice to him?_”

And he’d thought that it would. He’d thought that if he gave Mustang an inch then the man would take a mile, and Ed would be screwed over. He’d put trust in people who didn’t deserve it too often, and he’d gotten hurt more often than that. He trusted Mustang, but… not enough to open up, apparently.

Enough to saddle him with their research, though.

The _research. _Oh, no.

No, no, no, _please_.

They’d known it was dangerous to stick their nose in it, hadn’t they? He didn’t want to make the connection, but it was staring him in the face. If Roy had been murdered… was that why?

That meant… it was Ed’s fault.

After all, their last conversation had been about how he planned to help them. He always did. And of course Ed had warned the Colonel, and stubborn as ever, he wasn’t even deterred for a moment. And then Ed had asked him…

_“Since when have you ever wanted to help us? You only care about yourself.”_

It all came back to words, didn’t it? The last words he’d spoken to Roy.

Had Edward actually _said _that?

It wasn’t true, and he _knew _it wasn’t true. The only person stupid enough to believe that was the Colonel himself. And he had.

Edward hadn’t even apologized; all he’d been able to say after that was that the creepy people at the Fifth Laboratory had mentioned making him a sacrifice, since it’d spooked him pretty bad.

Maybe they’d decided to make Roy a sacrifice, instead.

God, Edward couldn’t believe it. Not just the fact itself, that the Colonel was… he couldn’t even bring himself to think the horrible word. _Words, words, words_. Words thrown carelessly, words that Ed had meant to hurt. So many words left unsaid, and now they never would be.

Just earlier today, he’d called Mustang an ‘insufferable bastard’ to the man’s best friend. Hughes must’ve already heard, and therefore he must’ve thought Ed was _such _a—

Wait. _Hughes_.

Ed had never heard a lie come out of the man’s mouth. He was all honesty, positivity, and helpful tendencies. He’d said that Roy was just in East City— his leg was bad off, but that was all.

Roy was still breathing, he was still _alive. _Hughes would’ve told them if that weren’t the case, and he certainly wouldn’t have lied through his teeth. He was one of the other few adults that Edward knew he could trust. Maria Ross had yet to earn it.

She clearly had no idea what she was talking about.

“Bullshit,” Edward snapped, and she took a few steps back, surprised. His voice was back at regular volume, and he felt like himself again. “_Bullshit_. He’s alive. You’re lying.”

She hesitated. “Edward...”

“_No_!” That came out as a shout; multiple pairs of eyes had turned to stare. Edward didn’t give a shit. All he cared about right then was Roy Mustang, who _had to be alive_. Ed didn’t know what he would do if he wasn’t.

Edward was reluctant to depend on _anyone, _but he had people he knew he could always count on to be there. Al. Winry. Their teacher. Roy. If one of these essential columns were to fall, he felt sure that he’d fall too. Just crumble away into dust.

Hughes had earned that trust. He couldn’t have lied to them. He _wouldn’t, _not about something like this.

“Come on, Al,” he said, his voice tight. “Let’s go to Lieutenant Colonel Hughes’ office. He’ll explain what _really _happened.”

Al faltered for only a moment before hurrying after him, leaving Maria Ross staring after them with that same sad look in her eyes.

* * *

Maes Hughes felt like he couldn’t _breathe. _The past month had been a constant struggle of trying not to be thrown down memory lane, trying not to let himself fall to pieces when he was reminded of his best friend.

And Roy _was _still his best friend, even if he was gone. That would never change. Maes refused to allow it.

But Maes had felt about as put together as a house of cards the second Roy’s name had left Edward’s lips. Paired with the bright and hopeful look in the boy’s eyes… it had been too much. He found himself fighting back tears as he walked down the hallway at a brisk pace, ignoring Hawkeye’s footsteps behind him and the impending lecture he could feel in the way she glared at his back.

And then, for some unknown reason, Maes had told the boys to be careful. He’d meant it, of course, he knew now that what they’d been looking into was truly dangerous, Roy had paid for whatever information he’d managed to find out with his _life_. But what Edward had said as Maes turned to go kept repeating over and over in his head. In response to Maes asking if he would be careful, Edward had simply replied, ‘I’ll try to be just this once, since you asked so nicely.’

Maes had been unable to stop his mind from drawing a connection to the last real conversation he’d had with Roy.

_“Tell Gracia and Elicia I said to take care, and you as well. I’ll be seeing you.”_

_“You telling me to take care is yet another completely hypocritical statement. But yes, and I’ll see you soon. Don’t do anything stupid.”_

_“I’ll do my best, just because you asked so nicely. Goodbye, Hughes.”_

_“Goodbye, Roy.”_

Edward and Roy were more similar than the two of them had ever liked to admit, and now Maes found himself absolutely devastated once again. All those words felt like a slap in the face, now. Every second since he’d gotten that horrible phone call, Maes had wished he could go back and say _more._

He wished he could tell Roy how much he cared about him, how much they _all _cared, just one more chance to get it through his thick skull and convince him that he was loved. He wished he’d spent hours speaking to Roy that day instead of just minutes here and there in passing, and he wished he’d called him every day following. He thought about what he’d do if he had a second chance, constantly analyzing what he could’ve done differently to the point where alternate realities filled his dreams, worlds in which he _had _done something before it was too late. He wouldn’t invite Roy to Elicia’s birthday party. He cherished the memories of that day, but he also couldn’t shake the fact that Roy wouldn’t have been in Central otherwise. Maybe he wouldn’t have found out about the Elrics. Maybe he wouldn’t have looked into things he’d be better off not knowing. Maybe Maes would’ve done so instead, and maybe he would’ve been the one to pay for it. He didn’t care. In fact, he wished he could make it real.

Any and all other outcomes were preferable to _this_. Roy came before himself, always had.

But that wasn’t exactly true, was it?

Because the one moment Maes’ mind kept coming back to, each time he thought back on everything he’d change, was not answering that _damn _phone call.

Maes had been selfish then. He hadn’t even thought anything of it— he’d simply wanted to enjoy dinner with his wife and daughter, to ignore the demands of his job for an hour or two. He’d never imagined what could be at stake. And he’d paid for it.

_Roy _had paid for it.

And Maes, because he had failed to do something as simple as pick up a phone, had ensured that whatever secret Roy had discovered followed him to the grave. He had silenced what would’ve been Roy’s last words to him without even knowing it, had made sure Roy died alone with his murderer, a dial tone echoing in his ears instead of the voice of a friend. _Maes _had been the reason Roy died in vain.

He was sure Roy had died hating him because of it.

Maes sincerely hoped that whoever had killed Roy was afraid. The dark thoughts in his head even scared himself, but he’d only grown more determined in his search for revenge.

His dark, spiraling thoughts— an alarmingly common occurrence these days, to be sure —was interrupted by the footsteps behind him quickening. Lieutenant Hawkeye.

“You’re really going to treat Edward like a child?” she asked.

Hughes gritted his teeth. He _knew _lying to the Elrics had been foolish, he didn’t need her to tell him that. Even so, “They _are _children. Just because the military neglects to see that doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“You know perfectly well that wasn’t what I meant,” she said, her voice cold. Maes turned to look at her. “They may both be young, but they’re wise beyond their years. They’ve been through a lot, too much for you to use their age as an excuse, and you know it. I _know _you know it, because I know the Colonel told you.”

“And how much they’ve been through is exactly why they don’t need to find out now,” Maes told her. “They’ve been getting so _close _to a breakthrough, and all their hard work as of late will cease once they find out about Roy. I know because it’s gotten to the point where I can’t think about anything besides who killed him; I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I… I just don’t want them to suffer. They shouldn’t have to lose anyone else.”

A beat of silence. “They already _have _lost him, sir,” Hawkeye said finally, voice soft. “We all have, they just don’t know it yet.”

“They’re lucky, then,” Maes said, just as quiet.

Hawkeye shook her head. “They’re going to have to find out eventually. Why prolong the inevitable? It’ll be worse when they realize you lied.”

Maes sighed. “I know,” he muttered. “I… I have no business calling Major Armstrong soft. I asked him if he’d told them yet, and he said he wasn’t able to. I tried to convince myself that it bothered me because the boys have a right to know, but truth be told? I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to be the one to break the news. And when I was confronted with it, I panicked.”

“That’s no excuse,” Hawkeye snapped, voice going harsh once more. “You’re not sparing them any pain, you're delaying the blow and making it worse by doing so. It’s cruel.”

Maes whirled around. “Roy died looking into the Elrics’ research,” he reminded her. “If we tell those boys what happened, they’ll undoubtedly blame themselves.” _Even though it’s not their fault. It’s mine. _“Like I said, they’ve been through so much. They don’t have to find out right now.”

Hawkeye returned his cool gaze, expression unreadable once more. “And as _I _said, they _will _find out. Wouldn’t it be better coming from someone they trusted? Coming from _you_?”

Maes pictured it; explaining to the Elrics what had happened, that the adult they trusted most in their lives had died trying to help them, that he was gone, that all three of them had a share in causing Roy’s death. He could see their horrified, distraught, _broken _expressions in his mind’s eye, and all he knew was that he didn’t want any part of it. He didn’t want to be the reason for it.

“No,” he decided. “No, it really wouldn’t be.” And he kept walking.

* * *

Winry knocked three times on the door of the Hughes’ apartment, already grinning, and to her pleasant surprise, it opened almost immediately to reveal none other than Elicia. Her smile faded, though, when she took in the miserable expression on the little girl’s face.

“Elicia!” Winry exclaimed, unsure what to say. “I’m so glad to see you, but what’s the matter?”

“I miss Uncle Roy,” she mumbled, and Winry blinked.

The Colonel must’ve gone back to East City, then. “Well, I’m sure he’ll be...”

Winry trailed off when she caught sight of Miss Gracia, a strained smile on her face, but eyes no less sad. She put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “No, sweetie. I don’t think Roy will be back to visit us any time soon.” She sighed. “I don’t suppose anyone’s told you?”

Winry felt like her feet were sinking into the ground, rooting her to the spot. She wanted nothing more than to run away from the news she was about to hear. She’d seen the expression on Miss Gracia’s face before.

She’d seen it when soldiers were sent to their door to inform her and her grandmother of her parents’ passing. And just like then, she got a very distinct impression of _no, this isn’t right. This isn’t supposed to be what happens._

But she couldn’t move. “Told me what?”

Gracia sucked in deep breath, and as if she knew what was coming, Elicia turned and walked away from the door. Winry watched her go. She walked over to a comically large teddy bear that was propped up against the wall in the living room, and wrapped her arms around it.

Winry turned back to Gracia, who stepped aside to let her pass.

“Come in, dear. You’d better sit down.”

* * *

Edward pushed open the door to Lieutenant Colonel Hughes’ office without knocking, his heart beating out of his chest. The man in question was seated at his desk, head buried in his hands. Lieutenant Hawkeye stood beside him, rifling through some papers, but they both looked up when he entered.

He began before either of them could. He wanted answers. “Why the hell did Second Lieutenant Ross just tell us that—”

And then he stopped.

Edward had walked all the way here with the intention of throwing Maria Ross under the bus, of calling her out on what he was sure to be a lie. Because Hughes had just told them Roy was in East City, and Hughes wouldn’t lie to them. He wouldn’t.

But then he saw the expressions on their faces, and he _knew._

The fury Ed had felt only moments before left him, and an all too familiar feeling took its place. Loss. A heavy sorrow he hadn’t felt since losing their mother hit him all at once. He couldn’t deny what Ross had said anymore, not when Hughes was staring at him like _that_. The man’s usually bright green eyes looked almost empty.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Ed asked, and to his surprise, his voice came out steady. “Mustang’s dead.”

Hughes drew in a long breath, and turned his blank stare to the floor. “Yes.”

Edward waited for him to elaborate, to explain how the hell it had happened, to explain _himself _for lying, but Hughes didn’t continue.

“Oh,” Al said quietly from behind him, his small voice choked with tears that none of them could see. “Oh, _no_.”

And in an instant, Ed’s anger came rushing back.

“Then why the _fuck_,” he began, clenched fists shaking at his sides. “Did you lie to us?”

Al gasped. “Brother—”

“Nope,” Ed snapped, aware he’d feel horrible for being rude to Al later. But right now? He didn’t care. The only thing he cared about right now was Mustang, who had apparently been dead for a month, and no one had seen fit to tell them. “Don’t defend him, Al. You’d better have a damn good reason for not telling us, Lieutenant Colonel. Start talking.”

Hughes sighed. “We tried calling, we’d hoped you would be able to make the funeral, but we couldn’t reach you, and we had to—”

“Stop,” Ed cut him off again. “I didn’t ask you why you didn’t tell us _before_, I want to know why you didn’t tell us when I asked you specifically _where he was_. I want to know why you told me he was in East City when in reality he’s _six feet underground_. I want to know why you _lied_.”

“Edward,” Hughes began, and his voice was doing that _thing _that adults’ voices did when they were trying to be calm, when they thought they knew better than him. Ed hated it. “There was no reason to tell you now.”

Edward narrowed his eyes. “I respectfully disagree.”

“Look,” Hughes pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. Every small gesture just pissed Ed off more. How _dare _he look frustrated? How dare he look like Edward was the one being unreasonable? “I knew that telling you would upset you, and I wanted to avoid that for as long as possible.”

“Of fucking _course _it upsets me!” Edward’s voice had risen almost to a shout. He didn’t care. “He’s dead! He’s gone! Anyone would be upset, but that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to keep it from me! You don’t have to treat me like a little kid! If anything, by not telling me from the start, you just made it _worse_. I mean, did you think we’d never find out?!”

Hawkeye looked like she wanted to protest, but Hughes held up a hand and continued before she could. “It’s okay,” he told her. “He’s right. You did try to tell me the same thing.” He turned back to the two of them. “Edward, I’m sorry I couldn’t bring myself to tell you earlier, but please understand that I was trying to _help _you. I didn’t want to disrupt any progress you’ve been making towards your goal with the news. I know _my _whole world’s been turned upside down, and I was afraid that telling you about Roy would do just that, especially considering that he died while—”

Hughes’ mouth snapped shut.

Edward stared at him, eyes wide. “Finish that sentence,” he said softly.

Hawkeye glanced between the two of them, obviously uneasy. “Edward, maybe—”

“What were you going to say?” Ed insisted, not taking his eyes off of Hughes. “That he died while trying to help us? Is that it?”

Hughes shook his head quickly. “Ed—”

“You think this is my fault?” Ed was shaking now, trembling with the rage. “Because Roy died while looking into things for us?”

Hughes opened his mouth, but seemed at a loss for words.

Ed threw up his hands. “Of course it is!” And it was true. “So, you blame me for him dying, then? That’s why you wouldn’t tell me?”

“No, Edward, of course I—”

“Perfect! Another person I care about gets their life ruined because they _dared _to help the Fullmetal Alchemist, so why would I deserve to know? Why not lie to Edward Elric? It’s his doing anyway!”

“Edward, it is _not _your—”

“Al’s body, Nina, and now Colonel Mustang, too. All gone because of me. Hell, maybe _I _was the one who killed the guy! Has anyone asked for my alibi? Is that why you didn’t tell me, Lieutenant Colonel, because I’m a suspect? Because you wanted to see if I’d—”

“_EDWARD_!”

Ed froze, his breath catching, and the seemingly endless ramble of words ceased. He hadn’t stopped shaking.

Hughes took another deep breath. “That’s enough,” he said, in a much quieter voice. “Edward. You are _not _a suspect, and Roy’s death was _not _your fault. I wanted to avoid telling you because I was afraid _you _would think that.” He paused. “His death wasn’t your fault at all. It was mine.”

Hawkeye flinched. “Sir, how many times do I have to tell you, it was not your—”

“He deserves to know what happened, at the very least. They can judge for themselves whether to hold me accountable,” Hughes said, then turned back to Edward. “Do you want to know?”

Did he? Ed wasn’t sure anymore. On the one hand, he didn’t want to hear the particulars of Mustang’s death. That would make it real. But on the other… he _needed _to know. “Yes.”

“All right, then,” Hughes said with a nod, then seemed to steel himself. “You said Maria Ross told you he was murdered. We… we don’t know exactly what happened; there were no witnesses to the murder itself, and the last person to see Roy alive just gave us more questions than answers. We don’t know a lot of things.”

Ed crossed his arms. “What _do _you know?”

“Brother...”

Hughes’ expression hardened. “We know that he was working late one night, presumably looking into research for the two of you, though like I’ve already stated, I do not see either of you as remotely at fault for what happened. We know that he sent Lieutenant Havoc home even though he was supposed to be guarding Roy for the night, since Scar might still be at large.”

A horrible image came to Ed’s mind, then. A modified version of that day when Scar had come so close to using his destructive alchemy on the Colonel’s head. Except in this version, Scar had been successful. Edward sucked in a breath. “How close are we to tracking him down?”

“What?”

“_Scar_. He must’ve come back to Central. Do you have any leads?”

Hughes blinked. “Scar didn’t do it.”

Ed was floored. “How could you possibly know that? Scar wants Mustang dead, we _all _saw what happened that day—”

“Roy was shot,” Hughes said, cutting him off. “Scar wouldn’t have bothered to use a gun, not with his power. But whoever killed Roy shot him right through the heart. We believe his death was instantaneous.”

Edward’s mind had gone blank again. He didn’t like the picture this painted in his head, either. He jumped when Al spoke up.

“Do you have any idea who _did _do it then?” he asked, voice small. “Or… or why?”

“No, unfortunately we don’t have any suspects,” Hughes said, then continued though he looked reluctant to do so. “But we’ve assumed the reason for his murder was… well, he learned something that he probably would’ve been better off not knowing.”

“Because of us,” Ed finished for him, knowing Hughes would never voice it out loud. “Isn’t that right?”

And Hughes _hesitated_. That second of silence said more than Edward needed to hear. Of course the Lieutenant Colonel blamed them, regardless of whether he said otherwise. But Hughes seemed to compose himself, and then spoke up. “We… do currently think that sensitive information learned while looking into your research is most likely the reason he was targeted, yes,” he admitted. “But I’ve said already; no one blames either of you. Roy chose to help you of his own free will, and he knew that it could be dangerous. I’ve made peace with that choice, and so should you.”

“Who _do _we blame for this, then?” Edward demanded. “You’re the head of investigations and you’re telling me you don’t have any suspects? Not one?”

Hughes shook his head. Ed took a step closer to his desk.

“But you said it was _your _fault earlier,” he pressed. “You said so, I heard you. What did you mean by that? What did you _do_?”

“The Lieutenant Colonel is doing exactly what you’re doing,” Hawkeye said, voice dangerous. “He’s blaming himself when Colonel Mustang’s death had nothing to do with him, either. Leave it be.”

Hughes waved a hand at her. “It’s all right,” he said softly. “They deserve to know everything. No more hiding the truth.” He met Edward’s eyes once again. “Roy wasn’t killed at headquarters; he left after presumably being first attacked here, and then went to a phone booth some distance away after nearly using a phone here. We believe he intended to pass along whatever he found out once he realized there was a target on his back, but deemed the phones here unsafe to do so. His body was found in this phone booth.”

Edward huffed. “Okay, but what does that have to do with _you_?”

Hughes hesitated again, but didn’t tear his eyes away. “Before he was killed, Roy called someone from that phone booth,” he said. “He… he called me, and… I didn’t answer him.”

A moment of heavy silence passed, in which everything Edward thought he’d known about Lieutenant Colonel Hughes was proved completely wrong, and he was left only with his anger and sorrow. The former of which drowned the latter out almost completely, because _what_?

What the _hell_?

“You didn’t...” Ed echoed, unable to even say the horrible words that had left Hughes’ mouth. “So it _is _your fault.”

“Brother!” Al protested, yet again. “You can’t say that!”

“Why not?” Ed asked. “It’s true, isn’t it?

Hughes didn’t say anything, which only succeeded in making Edward angrier. Lieutenant Hawkeye, however, did.

“Edward, listen,” she began, her voice calm as it always was. “I know you’re upset, but Lieutenant Colonel Hughes was _not _responsible for—”

“How can you defend him?” Ed demanded, turning to her. “You cared about him more than either of us, clearly! You didn’t do _anything _to cause this, you weren’t even the one who was supposed to be guarding him that night. _You _were doing your job, and if Mustang had called, _you _would’ve picked up. Am I wrong?”

Hawkeye opened her mouth again as if to object, then shut it. Hughes looked at her with an unreadable expression, but still didn’t speak up. He knew that Edward was right, too.

Ed wasn’t going to change his mind. Lying to them about what had happened to Mustang was bad enough, and Ed was already furious about that. And now… to learn that Hughes had had a chance to save Roy, that he was the _one person _Roy decided to contact when he potentially already knew what his ultimate fate would be… it _disgusted _him. Mustang would still be alive if Hughes had answered that phone call, Ed was sure of it. Or if not that, they’d know what the hell it was that he’d died _for_.

Was that why Hughes had lied? To escape blame? To cover up his mistake? He’d claimed that he’d been afraid that Edward would blame himself, but if that were true he would’ve volunteered the fact that he didn’t answer without hesitation. At least Hughes had the sense to blame himself as well.

_Good_.

“Why didn’t you answer?” Ed asked, taking another step towards Hughes. “What the hell was so important that you couldn’t be bothered to do something as simple as answer the phone? Aren’t all military officers supposed to be easily reached?” Hughes flinched, and Ed knew he’d hate himself for it afterwards, but… it brought a smile on his face, twisted and angry though it was. “In case of, oh, I don’t know, an _emergency_?”

Hughes took a deep breath before speaking. “I went home a few hours early that day, and was eating dinner with my wife and Elicia when the phone rang. I didn’t think anything of it, and figured it must be someone from headquarters calling about some case or another. Since I’d taken the day off, I elected to finish eating dinner before addressing it.” He paused. He seemed to be doing that a lot, and it made Edward’s blood boil. “It was a foolish decision, one made because I wrongfully assumed the call wouldn’t be important, since they rarely ever are. Had I known it was Roy, of _course _I would have—”

“See, I don’t know if I buy that,” Ed cut him off yet again. “Because you _knew _the Colonel was staying late, and you _knew _he was sticking his nose in some dangerous stuff. Not only that, but if I’ve heard correctly, he was supposed to be staying with you that night. You’re telling me that the fact that it could be Mustang, that he could be in trouble, didn’t even cross your _mind_?”

“It… it didn’t.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but that just makes no sense whatsoever to me,” Ed said bluntly, and Hughes flinched again. “I know for a fact you’re always worrying about him, and I also know that you’re pretty smart, so either you’re lying _again _or you genuinely didn’t put two and two together, which would make you a lot dumber than I thought, and also a pretty horrible friend.”

Hawkeye gasped. “_Edward_, how dare you say such—”

“Are all of you _blind_?” Edward cried, looking at each of them in turn. His gaze landed on Hughes once more. “If you can say something to help me understand what the _fuck _possessed you to make that decision, by all means, speak up. Because I’m wracking my brain here, and it just doesn’t make any goddamn _sense_!” He stopped, and still, nothing in response.“I’m serious! When I first met you, Mustang introduced you to me as his _best friend_. Someone he trusted unconditionally, which is how I knew that _we _could trust you. He never shut up about you, frankly! He’d always say that you were ‘always there for him.’ Was that a fucking lie, too? Because it seems to me that the moment he _actually _needed you, the moment it _mattered_, the moment before he _died_, you had better things to do.” He drew in a breath, and shook his head. “How _could _you?”

Another beat of silence. “I… you’re right,” Hughes said, finally. “I wasn’t there when Roy needed me, not when it counted. I was a horrible excuse for a best friend. You’re right to blame me for his death. I blame myself.”

Edward nodded once. Finally, he had something reasonable to say.

And then he ruined it.

“However,” Hughes continued, beginning to look a little angry himself now. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to assign me _all _the blame. I didn’t pull that trigger, and I assure you I won’t rest until we find out who did. But… though I don’t entirely disagree with what you’ve said, I think you would do well to remember that _you _are the one who asked Roy to look into such dangerous research in the first place.”

Edward felt like he’d been slapped in the face. “You just—!”

“I did say that _I _don’t believe you are responsible,” Hughes said. “Though I’d be lying if I told you that there weren’t obvious connections between what you asked Roy to look into and his death. And I certainly think he would’ve been better off not doing what you requested of him. So, I suppose I’m trying to say that you, of all people, holding me entirely at fault is… a bit hypocritical.”

Oh, Ed was positively _seething _now. So, Hughes did blame them, clearly, or at least a little, though he would never admit it.

And Ed knew there was truth to his words, of course he did. He _knew _he was partially responsible, he didn’t need Hughes to spell it out for him. Even so…

“I think you’re misremembering who asked who, Lieutenant Colonel,” he said bitterly. “I asked _you _to look into the philosopher’s stone for us, not Mustang, and you agreed. I thought that was that, until he visited me at the hospital and informed me that he’d already discussed the matter over with _you _and decided that _he’d _be doing it instead. He didn’t even really give me a choice, he just said that you had a family and work and that he didn’t have either of those things, so he had nothing but time on his hands. _You’re _the one who let him take on such a dangerous task when he was already injured and supposed to be taking it easy, not me.”

Hughes frowned. “You know very well how impossible it is to change Roy’s mind when he’s made it up. I tried to tell him that I would do it, that it would be dangerous—”

“Clearly you didn’t try hard enough,” Ed cut him off. “It’s not impossible to say no to him; I do it all the time! And I know you’re stubborn, because normally when he asks you to leave him to his own devices you _don’t_! So why did you do it this time?”

“I—”

“I’ll tell you why! You wanted to spend time with your family. Doesn’t that sound familiar?” Ed asked, that false, cruel smile coming onto his face once again. “That’s _twice _you prioritized your family over your job, twice you prioritized your family over Mustang, and now he’s _gone_. Dead. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

Hughes was speechless at first, and Ed worried that he’d shocked him into silence again. But then he stood up from his desk, and his previously stony expression turned into one of anger that he’d never seen from the man before.

“How dare you?” he said softly, a startling contrast to Ed’s own voice, which had been steadily increasing in volume as their argument went on. Hughes’ seemed to be a more quiet sort of rage, but he still looked extremely pissed off. Ed had only ever associated the man with smiles… until now. Roy’s death really had changed him.“How _dare _you? I’m aware that I made a mistake, but suggesting that I would knowingly put something like quality time with my wife and daughter, as precious as that is to me, before Roy’s _life_? Edward, you’ve crossed a line.” Ed noticed, for the first time, that Hughes was shaking, too. “Roy _is _my family. I love him just as much as Gracia and Elicia. I’ve known him since we were just kids. He’s like a brother to me.”

Hughes faltered, and Edward winced at the words he spoke next.

“He… he _was _like a brother to me,” Hughes said, then buried his face in his hands. “Christ, I… I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

And for a moment, Ed felt bad for all the things he’d said. Those words… _like a brother to me. _For a moment, just a moment, Ed pondered what it would’ve felt like to lose Al, to _truly _lose him, his presence completely erased from the world. He wouldn’t have been able to bear it.

But Ed never would’ve ignored a phone call from his brother. He never would’ve left him alone in what he knew could be a dangerous situation. He never would’ve let Al _die_. He’d sacrificed his arm to prevent that very thing from happening, and he would’ve sacrificed a whole lot more. Hughes hadn’t even been willing to sacrifice a family dinner. And besides…

“Mustang was _my _family, too!” Ed pointed out, practically shouting now. “And Al’s! And you _lied _to us about him! You told us he was alive and well when he _wasn’t_, and hasn’t been for more than a month! You weren’t the only person that loved him, you bastard! Did you even _think _about that?!”

“I know how much you cared about him, but you certainly had a funny way of showing it,” Hughes spat, and Edward took several steps backwards. “You blame me for putting my family first, but you do the same! You prioritize Al over everything, and I don’t fault you for that, after everything you’ve been through. What I _do _fault you for is how you were never kind to Roy when he was alive. You knew he cared about you, he made it plain as day. And while I admit he could’ve been more lenient with you, you _certainly _were never forgiving with him. And I was! I _was _there for him countless times, even if I wasn’t that day! Do you know how many times I’ve had to convince Roy that you didn’t hate him? That _everyone _didn’t hate him? That the only person who hated him and thought he deserved death was _himself_?!” Hughes said all of this very quickly, then took a breath, clearly trying and failing to calm himself down. “I screwed up, but at least I tried to show him how much I cared, instead of admitting it now, when it’s too late!”

Edward laughed; a startled, broken sound. “You know what? You’re absolutely right!” he exclaimed, still trying to stifle his laughter. Hughes’ face shifted from enraged to surprised. “My conversation with Roy that I mentioned, in the hospital? That was the last time I ever talked to him. Do you want to know what my last words to him were?” He didn’t wait for Hughes to answer. “When he offered to look into the philosopher’s stone for us, I said, ‘Since when have _you _ever wanted to help _us_? You only care about yourself.’”

And suddenly, Hughes went pale. “Oh, Edward, you didn’t,” he said, in a much softer tone that was nothing short of infuriating. “That… that would’ve absolutely _destroyed _him.”

Edward was still smiling. The nerve, the absolute _nerve_. “I did! I said that, and I’ve felt fucking awful about it ever since. I regret calling him selfish when he’s the complete opposite, and of course now I regret everything _else_, because I came here with the intention of apologizing for that one thing only to find out that he’s _dead_!” He laughed again. “But hey, at least I would’ve answered the _fucking __phone _if anyone had bothered to call us about it! Right?!”

Hughes shook his head slowly. “We… we tried to—”

“NO!” Ed exploded, starting forward again and slamming his hands down on the desk. “You could’ve tried _harder_! You could’ve sent someone, or at least not _lied_, like EVERYONE DOES! _ROY WOULDN’T HAVE LIED TO US_!” He was breathing heavy, now, struggling to get in the necessary air. “He _never _treated us like children. He treated us like equals, because he knew the hell we’d been through and he knew we could always stand a little more. You were always so _soft_, coddling us, giving us pie, letting us stay with you. You could never see us as anything more than little kids, which is why you fed us the same bullshit you probably fed your daughter. But this isn’t soft, it’s just… it’s even worse than telling us the cold hard truth. Because you gave us false hope, and then you took it away, which is the _worst possible thing _you could’ve done.”

“How…how do you know Roy wouldn’t have done the same?” Hughes asked. “I think he would’ve wanted to spare you the pain, as well.”

“He would’ve known it would only prolong the pain!” Ed told him, though in reality he wasn’t sure what Mustang would have done. In the end, it didn’t matter, because _Mustang wasn’t here. _He and Al… they had trusted the Colonel, and he’d meant the world to them, though Ed would never have admitted it. He _saved _them, and because of Hughes, no one had been there to do the same for him. Ed didn’t care if he wasn’t being entirely fair. _Life _wasn’t fair, and clearly death wasn’t either. “He would’ve known that we _deserved the truth_.”

“Yes, but he might’ve—”

“You know what?” Edward stopped him with a raised hand. “I don’t care anymore. I… I wish I hadn’t called Mustang selfish, because clearly _you _are the selfish one. I just can’t believe I didn’t see it until now,” he said. “You didn’t lie for our benefit, or for him. You did it for _yourself_. Because you were ashamed that despite all your promises, you weren’t _fucking there_. You’re the one who made him die in vain.”

Hughes was still pale. He reached out a hand towards Edward. “Ed, listen. I think we both went a little too far, said some things we didn’t mean,” he tried for a smile, but it fell off of his face before it even really existed. “I’m… I’m looking into the case, and trying to find out who’s _actually _responsible. Who was holding that gun. There’s a good chance we might be able to discover what it was that Roy found out. If you want to help—”

“I’m never helping you,” Edward said, voice flat. “With what you’ve done… the call, the lies… I’ve lost all the trust I had in you. It was only ever there because of Mustang’s high opinion of you to begin with, and clearly _his _trust was misplaced. I’ll look into whoever did this myself, since you’ve proven that you can’t do your job right. Not when it’s important, anyway.”

Hughes made a strangled noise. He sounded absolutely devastated. Edward didn’t care. He _deserved _to wallow in that sadness; he’d caused it for all of them. “Ed, I’m…I’m sorry, but if you would just listen, we—”

“I’m done listening to you,” Ed snapped. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re as dead to me as Roy is.” He hesitated, but only for a moment. “Honestly? I wish you _had _been the one doing that research for us. I wish it’d been you.”

Edward turned on his heel, and stormed out of Hughes’ office. “Let’s go, Al.”

Al squeaked, and after a moment of looking between Hughes and Ed, hurried after his brother without saying a word.

* * *

Maes stared at the door in shock. He had no words.

Hawkeye, who had wisdom that far surpassed his own and always knew what tosay, even after what had happened… didn’t seem to have any words either.

“Are… are you all right, sir?” she asked, finally.

_No_. “Yes,” he replied, drawing the nearest file on his desk closer to him, and opening it. It was Roy’s, of course, even though he wasn’t technically supposed to have access to it. He cleared his throat, and pretended there weren’t tears welling up in his eyes. _I wish it’d been me, too_. “You said Maria Ross has been brought up as a potential suspect? She doesn’t know that yet though, I’m assuming.” It wouldn’t have done any good to tell the Elrics about that, since Maes seriously doubted the Second Lieutenant capable of such a crime. Besides, _she’d _just told them the truth. Ed would’ve been more inclined to believe her side, anyway.

Hawkeye hesitated for only a moment longer before nodding abruptly. “She… yes, according to the autopsy report the bullet came from the same type of gun as the one she has.”

Maes raised an eyebrow at her. “The very gun that happens to be standard issue for all military personnel?”

“That’s correct.”

He sighed. “Honestly. And you said a senior officer was the one to propose this theory?”

She nodded again.

“Hm.” Whoever had come up with this crazy idea was more likely to be involved than Ross, Maes thought. She wouldn’t hurt a fly, and certainly not Roy. She seemed more like a convenient scapegoat than anything. “Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we. They’d better promote me if I solve this one.” Translation? _They probably had a hand in it, not her. We know multiple higher-ups are most likely involved. Let’s look into this more._

Hawkeye hesitated again.“There is… there is one thing, sir,” she said. “I don’t think Second Lieutenant Ross any more capable of this than you, but… there was a bullet fired from her gun that no one can find any other excuse for.”

“_Oh_?”

“She claimed that she fired it at a mysterious figure when she traveled with the Elrics to the Fifth Laboratory, when it came up with her superior officer,” Hawkeye said, then frowned. “We could’ve asked the Elrics about it.”

Maes shook his head. “They’re not allowed to know about this yet, and neither is she, since she has yet to be brought in as an official suspect. Besides… with the warpath Edward was on, I doubt you could’ve gotten more than a word in edgewise.”

“Sir...”

“Phone Havoc,” Maes said quickly, before she could continue.“See if Barry the Chopper can support her story. A testimony from him will hardly hold up in court, especially if those involved are planning to use her as a scapegoat. But at least we’ll know she’s innocent, and can act accordingly. If she didn’t shoot Roy she has nothing to worry about.”

“And… if she did?”

Maes, while flipping through the file, came across one of the crime scene photos, and couldn’t help but flinch. It was oddly blurry for a case photograph; whoever had taken it had done so in a hurry, and very few details were in focus. But Maes was almost thankful for that. He didn’t need to see the gaping wound in Roy’s chest to know it was there—the pool of blood his best friend lay in and the amount of it all over him was more than enough. And the expression on his face, so blank and peaceful. Maes could almost fool himself into believing that Roy was only sleeping. But Maes knew better, of course.

“If she did, we’ll make sure she pays for it.”

* * *

Edward sent Al to get Winry, because he didn’t think he could stand to be in the Hughes’ house. Not after everything that he’d said to the Lieutenant Colonel. He didn’t regret any of those words, harsh though they were, but… he didn’t exactly blame Al for his obvious disapproval, either. No doubt Winry would feel the same.

It was definitely better if they both had a moment to deal with the news away from him, without what was, in their eyes, a very misdirected anger.

Besides, Ed had something he wanted to do, anyway. Something he _needed _to do.

He found himself running as soon as he was a block away from headquarters, feet pounding against the pavement faster and faster because he wanted to put as much distance between himself and that place as possible. The farther he was from Hughes… from everyone there that could’ve stopped what happened… the better. Ed didn’t know what he would’ve done, if he’d stayed there just a moment longer.

But as he ran, the seemingly boundless fury started to dissolve, and the reality of the situation hit him full force again. And again. And again. And—it wouldn’t stop. Over and over, on loop in his mind; _he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s _dead_._

_It’s my fault._

No, it wasn’t. It was _Hughes’ _fault. Ed hadn’t even been in Central at the time, what could he have possibly done?!

What… what could he have done differently, to stop this? Was there anything?

Because he’d do it in a heartbeat. He’d change anything he had to change, he didn’t care anymore. He just wanted the Colonel back.

Edward stopped running.

His brain, for some reason, had taken his feet—and by extension, him —to the cemetery. He debated turning around… but then he was already walking further in.

He had to _see_. It wouldn’t change anything, and he knew that, but… at least he’d know for sure.

At least he could say goodbye, even if it was too little, too late.

He walked through the rows, careful not to disturb the other people there, milling about with their hushed voices and bouquets of flowers, casting shadows over the names of those they had lost. Some of them still wore black, still had the teary eyes of a recent death.

Ed refused to acknowledge that his own eyes were welling up, too.

It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for. The military had clearly spared no expense. Colonel Mustang’s grave rose just a little above the rest, solitary and silent on a hill behind the seemingly endless rows of the now dead.

Edward’s nose wrinkled at the sight. Mustang would’ve hated it, to be singled out like that, as if he was better than the common citizen of Amestris.

He was, though. He really, _really _was.

He climbed the hill slowly. Grass still hadn’t grown completely over where they’d buried the… the body. A fresh bunch of white flowers rested on the headstone, appearing to have been placed there only a day or so prior. Ed couldn’t remember what they were called. He wondered if Hughes had put them there.

He read the words on the headstone, and suddenly the already distant noises of the world around him fell away completely. _Everything _fell away completely, because Edward could’ve sworn for just a split second, that instead of ‘Roy Mustang,’ the grave read ‘Trisha Elric.’

He shouldn’t have been surprised by it, really. How many days had he spent as a child, sitting in front of his mother’s grave, hoping for comfort she would never again be able to give them? He felt startlingly similar, now. Back then he’d considered the unthinkable, to bring the only parent he’d ever really known back.

Four years and a failed attempt at human transmutation that had almost cost him his _entire world _in Alphonse, and here he was all over again. Contemplating what he knew could only go horribly wrong for someone who’d done for them what no one since their mother had. The Colonel had given them a home, in the military. An odd new family for two messed up kids, to be sure, but a family nonetheless.

A family that, once again, was broken by loss.

Ed blinked the image away with watery eyes, and looked at what had actually been inscribed on the stone.

“’Roy Mustang,’” Edward read aloud. “1885 to 1914. Renowned alchemist, trusted colleague, and, above all, beloved friend. He will be forever remembered for his bravery and service to this country.” He frowned. _Yeah, Mustang definitely would’ve hated this._

Ed hated it, too. It all just felt… so wrong.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he muttered.

“Nothing is _supposed _to happen, young man,” a voice from somewhere behind him said. “Life is full of both bad and good. We just have to live with plenty of both.”

He turned to see a woman dressed in a black coat over a dress the same color, with long dark hair cascading down one shoulder to match. Her pale, wrinkled skin stood out against the fabric, and her bright red lipstick matched the bouquet of roses held tight in her arms. Edward had never seen her before in his life, he was sure of it, and yet… and yet…

Something about her was so, _so _familiar.

She passed him without saying anything else, and laid the roses down on top of Mustang’s grave. Ed blinked.

“You’re… you’re here for the Colonel?” he asked, confused, then immediately felt stupid for asking it. Of _course _she was, it was the only grave in the vicinity, and she’d just put down the roses.

She smiled at him. Kind, yet also a little bitter. “From what I hear, it’s Major General now.”

Ed flinched. He’d forgotten about that already. It… would certainly take some getting used to.

Hell, _all _of this would take some getting used to.

“Who… who are you?”

“Chris Mustang,” she said, and held out a hand. “And yes, I’m here for Roy.”

Edward shook her hand, and cleared his throat to get rid of the lump that had formed when she told him her name. “Edward Elric. I’m his… he was—”

“I know who you are,” the woman, Chris, replied. “Roy mentioned you plenty of times, and the red coat is hard to miss. The Fullmetal Alchemist?” Her smile turned genuine. “He was always surprised by how much chaos a child of fifteen could cause. I told him that he’d been quite a handful to raise himself.”

“He never brought you up to me,” Edward said, with a small smile back. “But… you’re his mother?”

She laughed. “Oh, not his mother, heavens no. I’m his aunt, on his father’s side. Never had kids myself, didn’t think I’d be too good at it, what with my job,” she told him. “I run a bar, and a lot of less than savory types frequent there. Not really a place for children, but Roy had nowhere else to go, when his parents passed.”

Edward froze. “Mustang’s… Mustang was an orphan?”

“Yes,” Chris said, with a nod. “His mother passed giving birth, his father… my brother couldn’t bear it, and took his own life not long after. I was the only family poor Roy had left. He was only three at the time. A terrible thing, to lose one’s family so young.”

“It is,” Ed whispered. He felt like he had to reevaluate everything he knew about the Colonel, now. “I… I didn’t know he lost his parents. He never said anything about it.”

“He never said a lot of things,” Chris agreed. “Never wanted anyone else to feel sorry for him, that one. Always preferred to deal with his hardships on his own.” She sighed. “Ever since he told me he was going to try and become a State Alchemist… I knew, I think. I knew that sooner or later, things would end up like this. With him gone. Roy was too reckless for his own good. I knew he’d get in too much trouble to get himself back out, one of these days. I guess I just… I didn’t think it would be so soon. I thought I’d have more time.”

“I know how that feels.” Ed’s voice was far more strained than he would’ve liked. “You… you said that he… talked about me a lot?”

“All the time,” Chris said. “He always complained about your antics, but… you and your brother, you were good for him. He was proud of being able to help you, to bring you into the military, and give you a chance at a better life. But you helped him, too. I think, in a way, he thought of you as his responsibility. His kids. He was always so happy when he told me about you boys; he loved the two of you so much. You made his life better. Thank you for that.”

Edward sucked in a breath, the tears finally spilling over to run down his cheeks. He should’ve said so many things. He should’ve told her it was _his _fault that Roy had died, he should’ve apologized. He should’ve told her that he didn’t deserve that thanks or praise, that he hadn’t deserved Mustang’s affection even when he was alive, that he was needlessly rude to him far too often. He should’ve admitted that Mustang had helped him and Al so much, and Edward had never properly returned the favor, and now he never would.

What came out of his mouth instead was, “I miss him. So much.”

And Chris Mustang’s smile, which had never faltered once through their whole conversation, turned sad. Her _smile_. That’s what Edward had found familiar— Roy had smiled the exact same way.

“I do, too,” she said. “But he won’t really be gone, as long as there are people left to remember him. Will he?”

Edward’s gaze fell on the bouquet of white flowers that rested on the top of the headstone once more. Maybe… maybe he’d been a little harsh, with Lieutenant Colonel Hughes earlier.

Just a little bit, though. He still didn’t deserve an apology, not yet. Not when Mustang would never get _his _apology, and when that was still partly Hughes’ fault.

“No, he won’t be,” Edward decided. “He won’t really be gone, after all.” He took another deep breath, wiped his eyes, and pointed at the white flowers. “What, uh, what kind of flowers are these? They’re really pretty, so I might bring some next time I come visit.” Because he already knew, there _would _be a next time. He wouldn’t be able to stay away. He’d come back as many times as it took to feel okay again, and probably more after that.

“The hyacinths?” Chris asked. “Ah, Maes brings them twice a week, every Saturday and Wednesday without fail. They were Roy’s favorite.”

“So they were,” Edward mumbled. “That’s nice of him.” He felt like he was going to start crying again, and he’d never even really stopped.

“I should be heading back,” Chris said, and waved over her shoulder as she began to walk away. “I just came for a quick visit. It was nice to meet you, Edward Elric. Thank you again, for being a part of my boy’s life.”

Edward watched her go, then turned back towards the grave. He knelt down, and lay a hand on the marker. “Thank _you _for being a part of my life,” he said quietly. “Thank you for always being there for us, for _saving _us, for turning our lives around. For trusting us. For giving us hope again. For _everything_.” He hesitated, but only for a moment. “I never said this to you, and I wish I had, but I hope you knew. I… I loved you, you stupid bastard. You weren’t selfish, and you _didn’t _only care about yourself. I never should’ve said that. I should’ve told you the truth. You were like the father I never had. You knew that, didn’t you?”

No answer. Edward didn’t know why he almost expected one. It still didn’t seem real. That… that Mustang was…

“Goodbye,” Edward said, interrupting those thoughts before they went too far. “I’ll come back soon. I won’t forget you, or how much you changed my life. I… I promise.”

With those words, he stood up and left the cemetery to go find Al. He looked back more than once, and every time he saw the grave of Roy Mustang he wished that he hadn’t.

Over a year later, Edward would find out that six feet under that very headstone, instead of the body of the man he mourned, there lie nothing but an empty coffin.

**Author's Note:**

> Hm. That's interesting. I wonder what that means.
> 
> Sorry to leave you guys on a cliffhanger, but I highly doubt that you're surprised. By the cliffhanger I mean, not by that last line. I was sort of counting on that being a surprise.
> 
> Feel free to theorize/yell at me/cry down below! You readers are the best, I wouldn't be writing this shameless angst if it wasn't for you <3
> 
> Part five though? It's gonna be wild. I hope you're as excited as I am.
> 
> EDIT: More absolutely BRILLIANT ART for this update by the incredibly talented Lilituism! Check it out [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/63691882?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_340360582)


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